


Preschool

by theramblinrose



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinrose/pseuds/theramblinrose
Summary: Caryl, AU.  Oneshot.  It was the first day of school, and it was bound to be difficult.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier
Kudos: 17





	Preschool

AN: This is just a little one shot in response to a Tumblr prompt/request. If you have any prompts or requests for me, you can drop them here or in my Tumblr inbox.

I own nothing from the Walking Dead. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

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“It’s OK to feel—you know—however you feel,” Daryl offered as he put a small shoe on a delicate foot and strapped the Velcro into place. Sophia could put her shoes on her own feet quite well, but maybe she knew that, this morning, Daddy needed to do it for her. Daryl picked up the other shoe and prepared it to place it on her foot. “I mean—people feel all over the place, you know? And there ain’t—there ain’t no shame in feelin’ how you feel, Soph. However the hell that might be, you know? So, it’s OK—if you, you know—if you’re feelin’ however you’re feelin’.” 

Sophia looked at her Daddy with the appropriate amount of concern furrowing her brow, and she nodded at him.

“I know, Daddy,” she assured him. Daryl had been urging her to feel her feelings, without shame, and to share them with him since the very first nightmare he’d ever witnessed her having—when she was still too small to fully understand even why she’d dreamed what she’d dreamed or felt as afraid as she’d felt of a man that, thankfully, she no longer seemed to even remember.

Daryl wanted her to be open, and he wanted her to know that her feelings were OK. He wanted her to know that everything about her was OK in his book. 

“Your shoes feel alright?” Daryl asked. “They—uh—they ain’t too tight?” 

“They’re good, Daddy. Thanks, Daddy.”

As if to illustrate that her shoes were, in fact, just right, Sophia got to her feet and stomped around in a little circle. 

“I’m going to put your purple jacket in your bag, Sophia,” Carol said. “Your light little purple jacket. This one? Your soft one? I’m going to put it in your bag, OK? In case you get cold.”

Carol folded the tiny jacket and put it in Sophia’s rather large bag along with everything else that she’d been asked to pack for the very first day of school. It was preschool, really, and Sophia would only be gone for half a day, but it was the first day of school as far as everyone in the Dixon household was concerned.

“I put her nap mat in the car,” Daryl said. “And her blanket an’ that extra bear we got for leavin’ there. Her name’s on all of it.” 

Carol nodded her understanding. They’d gone over the list two or three times for Sophia’s first day. They’d packed everything required and everything recommended. Daryl had chosen this preschool, himself, out of all of the preschools in town because he thought it had the best program. It stressed helping children to grow toward independence. It stressed starting them out in an education geared toward interest and growth in areas where personal motivation already existed. It sounded, perhaps, a little kooky, but the reviews for the place were good and everyone who sent their children there seemed satisfied with the education their little ones took into four-year-old kindergarten the following year.

“You got her lunch?” Daryl asked.

Carol held up the lunchbox, decorated with brightly colored bears from a show that Sophia liked. The box matched Sophia’s little backpack and her blanket for her in-school naps. 

“Packed and ready to go,” Carol said.

“Snacks?” Daryl asked. “They said two of ‘em.” 

“Also packed,” Carol assured him.

“Can I go to school now?” Sophia asked. She was standing near the front door already.

Daryl looked at Carol and she bit the inside of her mouth. He looked almost desperate for just one thing more that might keep the girl there just a little longer. Carol gave him the most reassuring smile that she could and nodded her head. 

“I think we have everything,” Carol said. 

Daryl reached for Sophia’s bag and Sophia trotted over the moment that it changed hands. She reached her hands out toward him.

“I got it! I can carry my bag, Daddy!” 

“I’ll carry it out to the car,” Daryl said. “You can get it at the school, OK?” 

Sophia somewhat begrudgingly agreed with the plan and followed her Daddy to the door. Daryl opened it and took Sophia’s hand to hold it while she skipped down the front steps. Carol followed behind them and locked the door as she exited. 

Normally, they intended to take turns taking Sophia to school as they left for work. Today, though, was special. They’d wanted to be sure that she’d adjust well, so they’d both taken the day off so that they could take her together. They wanted her to feel supported and, honestly, they’d both wanted to witness the monumental event that would never come again—the very first day of school for their baby. 

Carol had imagined that it would hit her hardest of all. She imagined that she’d be a soggy mess. She’d been emotional through filling out the paperwork and through shopping for Sophia’s little school shoes and other accessories. 

Now, though, Carol was feeling oddly OK with everything. Sophia was happy. She was excited about school. She was excited about her things—all of them—and about meeting new children. She was excited about the playground and recess. She was excited about eating her snack at a specific time and sleeping on a mat on the floor. 

It was Daryl who was looking like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

At the truck, Daryl loaded Sophia into her seat in the extended cab and helped Carol in. He closed her door and walked around to his own side. 

They rode mostly in silence. Sophia requested her favorite song—a song from a 70s rock CD that Daryl kept always ready for her in the truck’s CD player—and she sang loudly to them about a dead skunk as they drove. The school wasn’t too far from the house, and Daryl parked the truck this time. Normally they would go through the line, so they wouldn’t bother with parking, but the first day they’d been asked to park and walk Sophia inside instead of passing her off to her teacher in the car line. This would allow them to bring Sophia’s things inside and, in the case of first-day jitters, it would give Sophia a sense of security as she made the transition from the protective care of her parents to the protective care of her teacher. 

At the school, Daryl sat Sophia on her feet outside the truck. She grinned at him, widely, as he helped her into her dramatically oversized backpack and tightened the straps as far as they would go. She reached for her lunchbox and he let her have it—each of his movements looked slow and almost painful.

“It’s OK,” Daryl said, leaning down to put himself at Sophia’s level and adjust her little straps, “to feel however you feel, OK? And you can say however you feel. There’s nothing wrong with it, OK?”

Sophia smiled at him. She put her hands on either side of his face.

“OK, Daddy,” she said. “I feel OK, Daddy. I’m ready to go to school now. How do you feel, Daddy?” 

Daryl smiled to himself. He caught Sophia’s little hand in his and pulled it over to his lips to kiss it. Sophia grinned at the affection, despite the fact her future classmates were starting to show up outside the school—some of them practically dragging their parents while others were being dragged by their parents. Sophia wasn’t embarrassed, yet, by her parents or her Daddy’s affection.

For Daryl’s sake, Carol hoped it was a good long time before Sophia ever learned to be embarrassed by the man who, though he hadn’t given her life, had given her everything he could and all the love he possibly had to offer.

“I feel—like my baby girl’s growin’ up,” Daryl said. Carol heard what Sophia likely did not hear, and her chest tightened. She’d expected the tears to flow over Sophia’s reaction to going to school. She’d expected to cry over her own feelings of watching her baby girl take her first steps—no matter how small—toward independence. She hadn’t expected to cry for Daryl.

“I’m a big girl, Daddy,” Sophia told him.

“You are,” he assured her. “You’re a very big girl. You ready to go to school now?” 

Sophia grinned at him and nodded. Daryl mirrored the nod and stood up. 

“You OK?” Carol asked when he faced her. He glanced at Sophia and nodded at Carol.

“Gotta be,” he said. “For her.” 

“You want me to take her inside?” Carol asked, pulling the last of Sophia’s items—the ones they would leave there for her—out of the truck.

“I got her,” Daryl said.

“You sure do,” Carol confirmed, handing Daryl Sophia’s things.

“Always gonna,” Daryl said. 

“I know,” Carol said. She glanced at the little girl who was practically oblivious to them as she danced around and watched as other children passed by her. She was already waving at another little girl who was holding onto her mother’s hand while her mother tried to handle some crisis her clearly younger child was having. “She knows it, too,” Carol said with a sigh. “That’s why she’s not afraid. And that’s a good thing.” 

Daryl kissed Carol on the cheek, and Carol leaned down when she caught Sophia’s attention to exchange a hug and a kiss before she wished her daughter a good day of school and promised she’d be there to pick her up when Carol’s normal part-time job would end—a job which she wouldn’t begin until the following day.

Carol got back in the truck and waited until Daryl came back. She noticed his demeanor as he walked, head down, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. When he got in the truck, she leaned over and kissed his cheek before he could even fish the keys out of his pocket and crank the truck. 

“She was OK?” 

“Like she don’t even need us,” Daryl said. 

“She needs us,” Carol assured him. “But—we’ve made her confident enough that, maybe, she doesn’t always need us. She knows she can go to school and…we’ll be there when she’s ready. You did that,” Carol added after a second.

Daryl laughed to himself.

“I ain’t had no more to do with it than you,” Daryl said.

“You did,” Carol said. “Because—you gave me a life that was stable enough to allow her to grow. To be everything she is. We never would have had that before I met you.”

“You mean with him,” Daryl said. He was referring to Carol’s first husband, and Sophia’s biological father—a man who had abused Carol to the point of making her run for her life, and her daughter’s life, to a women’s shelter, and a man who had given up his rights to his baby girl without so much as blinking an eye the moment that he heard that, once those papers were signed, he was no longer financially responsible for her. 

“You saved us.” 

“You saved you,” Daryl said. “And you saved her. All the hell I ever done was love you. Both of you.”

“And you do it so well,” Carol assured him. She rested her hand on his leg as soon as his seatbelt was buckled to keep some connection between them while he drove slowly away from the school. Carol sighed and relaxed into the seat. “We have—a lot of time to kill. What do you want to do?” 

“We could go home,” Daryl offered. “Spend the afternoon—workin’ on the next lil’ one we gonna send to school.” 

Carol laughed to herself and squeezed his thigh. He jumped slightly at the sensation. 

“With an offer as romantic as that,” she teased.

“I mean we talked about waitin’ until Sophia was older. Until she was ready for school. But—if you don’t wanna…you know…have a kid with me…” 

Carol smiled to herself. 

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Carol said. 

“Yeah?” Daryl asked, daring to look away from the almost abandoned road for only half a second to smile at her and raise his eyebrows at her. 

“I couldn’t possibly find a better man to build a family with,” Carol said. “And I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the morning while we wait to pick Sophia up from preschool than to—than to work on growing that family.” She laughed to herself. “How does that—make you feel, Daryl?” 

Daryl laughed in response. 

“A whole lot more optimistic than I did just about ten minutes ago,” Daryl assured her. “I tell you that.” 

“Well—you must be rubbing off on me, then, because I suddenly feel pretty optimistic myself,” Carol responded with a giggle.


End file.
